The air between the speedboat and the Son of the Beard seemed to freeze solid.
Edward Weevil's sluggish brain took a few seconds to process Renzo's calm but utterly bored words, words that, to him, were the greatest of insults.
"Huh?! You said I'm noisy?!"
His massive body shook with rage, his muddy eyes bulging as he swung his enormous naginata, the weapon cutting through the air with a violent whoosh.
"You're dead! Mama! I'll chop him into pieces!"
"Then, what are you waiting for?! Kill him!"
Weevil roared like a wild beast, slamming his gigantic foot down onto the deck.
Despite his bulk, his charge was shockingly fast, like a cannonball made of flesh, wrapped in a murderous aura as he hurled himself toward Renzo's small speedboat.
The naginata was raised high, its blade coated with a faint layer of Armament Haki, glowing with the power to split mountains and seas.
This single strike could slice the entire speedboat, and everyone on it, in half.
Pots and the marines aboard turned deathly pale, breath caught in their throats.
But Renzo's reaction was despairingly simple.
He didn't move to dodge or block. He merely lifted his eyelids, staring at the oncoming bulk and the glittering blade with eyes devoid of life, as if looking at a buzzing fly.
His voice was calm, but carried the cold finality of a verdict:
"Too noisy."
"And jumping around so much…"
"Just watching it…"
"…is exhausting."
[Sloth's Declaration, Gravity Field]
An invisible rule-based force spread instantly over Edward Weevil mid-pounce.
He wasn't crushed by added gravity, instead, the concept of "laziness" was applied to his own "weight."
The immense mass of his body, always heavy but carried by monstrous strength, suddenly woke up and became unbearably lazy, desperate to drag him downward, refusing to perform "jumping" or "airborne" movements, which were simply too troublesome.
"Wha-?!"
Weevil's eyes went wide in terror as his forward momentum vanished. His body grew unimaginably heavy; every muscle, every bone turned to lead, dragging him helplessly toward the sea.
His swing faltered. His balance broke.
SPLASH!!!
The sea exploded into towering waves.
The so-called son of Whitebeard, feared across the seas, hadn't even touched Renzo's boat.
Like a boulder thrown into the ocean, he plunged straight down between the two vessels, pathetically, almost comically, sending a spray of seawater high enough to rock nearby boats.
"My son! Weevil!!"
Miss Bakkin screamed, clinging to the railing, eyes wide in disbelief as her son flailed in the sea. His enormous body, suddenly burdened with impossible weight, could barely float.
Renzo didn't even glance at him. His gaze shifted to Miss Bakkin, her shrill, scheming voice stabbing into the air. To him, she was just another form of noise.
"Your voice," he said coldly, "is irritating too."
He raised his right hand and pressed down gently toward her ship.
[Sloth's Declaration, Pressure Field]
It wasn't physical pressure, it was the command that the air itself was "too lazy" to support her weight.
With a smack, Miss Bakkin was slammed flat onto the deck, arms and legs splayed like a squashed insect. Her face deformed against the planks, unable to move even a finger. Her scream caught in her throat, reduced to muffled whimpers.
The marines on Renzo's boat were stunned, drenched in cold sweat.
So this was the true power of Major Renzo, words made law, rendering enemies powerless before they could even get close.
Having silenced both sources of noise, Renzo didn't look relieved. In fact, being forced to "take action" twice only made him more irritated.
He looked once at Weevil, sinking and flailing uselessly in the water, then at Miss Bakkin, pinned helplessly to the deck.
Just immobilizing them wasn't enough.
By marine procedure, they'd have to be arrested, imprisoned, tried… and all that meant endless trouble.
And who could guarantee they wouldn't escape someday? Come back to make more noise near Marineford?
The mere thought made Renzo's soul ache with annoyance.
No, this needed to end completely. Permanently.
His gaze turned glacial, stripped of emotion, focused only on the purest efficiency: eliminating the disturbance.
He didn't need victory.
He wanted eternal silence.
Renzo stepped slowly toward the edge of the boat.
Even the sea beneath him seemed to become "too lazy" to ripple, lying flat and still, holding his vessel steady as stone.
He looked down at the struggling Weevil and extended a hand.
This time, he didn't speak, but his will alone carried the command.
[Judgement of Sloth, Concept Extraction, Limbs' "Diligence"]
Weevil's scream tore through the air, hideous and inhuman.
Before his eyes, his massive arms, those monstrous limbs that had once split warships and maimed Zephyr, withered rapidly, turning gray and lifeless.
The very concept of their "strength" and "purpose" was stripped away.
His arms had become too lazy to maintain their form or obey his will.
Not just atrophy, this was erasure.
Crack… crack…
Tiny splintering sounds filled the air.
Before the horrified marines, Weevil's arms, those instruments of destruction, crumbled like dry clay, disintegrating into dust that scattered across the sea.
Then the same happened to his legs.
"No! My hands! My feet! Mamaaa!!"
He wailed, his gigantic body reduced to a pathetic trunk and head, thrashing in the water, a pitiful stump of a man who could no longer harm anyone.
The son of Whitebeard… reduced to a human stick.
Some marines couldn't hold it in, they gagged, retching over the railing.
The scene transcended "battle"; it was rule-based, surgical cruelty.
Renzo's expression didn't change. It was as if he'd simply crushed two noisy insects.
He turned his gaze to Miss Bakkin, who lay frozen on the deck, eyes wide in terror, body trembling, a dark stain spreading beneath her.
For the woman who birthed this noise and fanned its evil, he felt no pity.
[Judgement of Sloth, Concept Extraction, Speech's "Meaning"]
Miss Bakkin's eyes bulged. She tried to scream, to curse, but no meaningful sound came out.
Her tongue and vocal cords were fine, but the concept of "language" had been taken.
She could only emit hoarse, meaningless noises, eyes wide with primal fear.
Then came the next command:
[Judgement of Sloth, Concept Extraction, Thought's "Activity"]
Her cunning, malicious gaze dulled instantly.
Her mind went blank, schemes, memories, intellect, erased like chalk from a board.
She slumped on the deck, drool dripping from her mouth, staring vacantly at the sky. A breathing husk. A living corpse.
The sea breeze swept away the stench of blood and gunpowder, leaving behind only cold stillness.
Moments ago, this mother and son had been arrogant, destructive sources of chaos.
Now, one floated helplessly in the sea as a limbless wreck; the other lay drooling on the deck, emptied of thought.
Renzo stood at the bow, hair ruffled by the wind, his eyes utterly calm.
He had removed the source of noise, completely, efficiently, without a trace of trouble left behind.
No more shouting.
No more chaos.
No more annoyance.
Turning away without a glance, he spoke in his usual lazy tone, though a faint chill lingered beneath it:
"Alright."
"Noise eliminated."
"Head back."
"I'm tired."
"Oh, someone fish that one out of the water."
"And bring the other one too."
The speedboat's engine hummed softly as it turned and glided away, leaving nothing but the quiet sea behind, as though nothing had ever happened.
"They can deal with them… let Sengoku handle it," Renzo thought idly.
He sank back into his recliner, eyes closing, as if he had merely swatted two flies.
The sunlight bathed him in warmth.
The world… was finally quiet again.
.....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
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